


Asshole

by OpalFruits



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Aborted Genocide Run, Frisk is self-aware, Frisk is sick of Sans' shit, Gen, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Gratuitous use of the word 'asshole', Humor, Neutral Run, Reader Is Frisk, Sans Being Sans, Sans knows more than he lets on, Vegetoid hate, pacifist run
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 12:02:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7639471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpalFruits/pseuds/OpalFruits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes several timelines, but eventually you come to the conclusion that Sans is an asshole. </p>
<p>A lovable one, certainly, but still an asshole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Asshole

Sans is an asshole.

You realise this quite suddenly and with startling clarity at the tail-end of your first, and hopefully last, stab at genocide (pun entirely intended).

Bleeding from every orifice – including a few newly made ones – you cling to your measly 1HP, still in awe that you survived his last attack at all. But you did and now, against all odds, Sans has fallen asleep. It's a stroke of good luck you can scarcely believe; one you know you can't afford to let slip. Not now, not after everything it took to get this far. Not when you're _so_ _close_.

You can't give up now. You have to stay DETERMINED!

Slowly, painfully, you claw your way to the FIGHT command, overriding the barriers still holding you in place through sheer force of will. Even asleep, Sans doesn't believe in making things easy for you and you have to fight for every inch of ground you take. But at last you make it. Elated, almost giddy at your unexpected success, you take one last desperate swing at his snoring form...

And he dodges.

Again.

Your heart sinks.

Frustrated, you bring the knife around for another sweep. You _know_ it's against the rules, attacking twice in the same turn, but then Sans hasn't exactly been playing fair either.

Miraculously, it works.

The guilt is instantaneous and, of course, a given. Sure, you're a psychopath this time round, but you remember the other timelines well. Sans has been a good friend in the past – the best, you might even venture to say, laziness notwithstanding – and killing him weighs heavily on your SOUL.

Then it hits you.

Oh yes, you feel remorse. There's no doubt about it. But...

Not as much as you _should._ Not as much as you might have done if he hadn't slaughtered you a thousand times before this. Not as much as if the battle had been in anyway _fair_.

You hate to admit it, but underneath your very real grief there is... Relief? Joy? Satisfaction?

Hm.

In the silence of the Judgement Hall you contemplate these emotions, limping back to the SAVE point (because _God damn,_ you are never doing that again). You bathe in it's rejuvenating light. You heal. And you reflect.

You remember all the painstaking hours spent memorising Sans' patterns. All the time spent adjusting to his unholy speed, learning to dodge more attacks in _one turn_ than you'd had to dodge in whole battles before. You think about the sapping poison, the mercy-dunking, the cheap shots in the battle menu. You remember his last, never-ending attack, the one you'd survived only once and even then only because you'd somehow caught an improbable lucky break.

Even his so-called 'special attack' was a dick move of epic proportions.

It occurs to you – as it did several hundred deaths ago – that after all the atrocities you'd committed to even get this far, you kind of deserved everything you got.

Ironically, the battle was so long and arduous that you find you no longer care.

“Asshole...” you mutter.

Despite your mixed feelings, you find yourself unable to go any further. Whatever point you set out to prove no longer matters – if it ever did.

**Reset**.

* * *

 

Your next run is a neutral one. Because fuck Vegetoids.

Still shaky from the Genocide route – honestly, you don't know _what_ you were thinking – your interactions with your friends feel stilted and uncomfortable. When you reach Sans, you can barely look him in the eye. Which is silly because he doesn't know. He couldn't know. The only one who remembers, who's ever remembered, is _you_.

Well. And Flowey. But he doesn't really count.

Things progress normally, and while everyone seems to have _some_ vague inkling – a lingering sense of déjà vu – they act normal enough that you eventually begin to relax. You date Papyrus and eat at Grillby's with Sans. You help out Undyne when she overheats in Hotland (though of course she knows about the Vegetoids and won't hang with you because of it), and you indulge Alphys in playing out her little fantasy. You even let Sans stack hot dogs (and cats) on your head, for old times' sake.

Things are good.

Until you meet Sans in the Judgement Hall again.

You know what's coming, because you've been here before. You know what he's going to say, how he's going to say it... You wish you could skip his speech, but that would be rude. _He_ doesn't know you've both already done this song and dance, after all.

And really, you should just be glad he's not trying to kill you this time.

But somewhere in the midst of his monologue, while he's lecturing you on being honest with yourself (rich, coming from the guy pretending to be a harmless comedian when he could probably give _Undyne_ a run for her money) you suddenly get a feeling. Like spiders crawling along your skin, which, thanks to Muffet, is a sensation you're intimately acquainted with.

Curiosity kindled, you study him; _hard._ And with a jolt you realise that something is off. He's grinning, like always, but beneath that... There's something else. An understanding. You can't put your finger on it, but you _know_ it's there. You don't fight someone as many times as you've fought Sans and _not_ learn how to read them like a book.

After a full minute of contemplation, you finally figure it out. It's like being whacked with a sledgehammer.

He _knows._

Or at least suspects.

And the more you think about it, the deeper the rabbit hole goes.

If he knew, like you think he knows, then that meant he'd been deliberately sticking to the same script over and over again throughout the timelines to make you think he _didn't_ know. Worse, if he knew – and the longer you watch him, the more convinced you are that he does know – then that meant that during all those timelines when you went off the rails and started killing people... Sans just sat back and let it happen!

_What a lazy **asshole** , _you think, abruptly outraged on behalf of the friends who'd died at your hands.

And no, the irony is not lost on you.

Too stunned to say anything, you wait until he finishes before moving on autopilot towards the throne room and the last stretch of your journey (at least in this timeline. You'll have to reset after this, you know, because Vegetoids aside, the Monsters deserve freedom; especially after everything you've already put them through).

It's not until you're standing outside the barrier, sun on your face, breeze in your hair, that another thought occurs to you.

Again, it floors you.

“That... _asshole!_ ”

Incensed, you spin on your heel to face the mountain, close your eyes, and reach for your save file.

This time, you vow, will be your last. You're going to free everyone, and you'll all live on the surface together as a family. But before that, you're going to give Sans a piece of your mind.

* * *

 

When you approach the Judgement Hall for the last time (theoretically), you have to physically restrain yourself from spitting the words at him. Not yet, you think. Soon. But not yet.

There's one last thing you want to do. An experiment, if you will. A way to confirm exactly how much Sans does or does not remember about the previous timelines. Which has nothing to do with the assholery you're going to confront him on later – that's in a _whole_ other league – but it's something you feel needs addressing nonetheless.

He finishes his spiel and you wait. You expect him to turn around and vanish, like he usually does, but to your surprise he starts talking again.

“wait a second. that look on your face while i was talking... you've already heard my spiel, haven't you? i suspected something like this.”

You blink. That was easy. You'd planned to just keep reloading, over and over again until he got annoyed and broke the pattern (or, unlikely as it seemed, until you were satisfied that he _didn't_ know anything). But here he was, breaking the script without any prompting at all on your part.

You _knew_ it!

Before you can say anything though, he's talking again and you tamp down your vindictive glee in order to keep up. He offers you a quest – a time travel thing, to prove you can do what he probably already knows you can. Overjoyed with your discovery, you decide to play along. Even if his code word is frankly ridiculous.

**Reload**.

You meet again in the hall, same time, same place. Triumphantly, you tell him the keyword(s). Naturally, he gives you grief for it – really, you expected no less – but before you can complain, he's somehow roped you into it again. This time, the code is even more absurd.

Curse your meekness.

**Reload**.

“I am the legendary fartmaster.”

Sans reams you good. You tolerate it, knowing full well that once he's had his little joke he'll have to give you something special for a reward. That's how side-quests work, after all.

Or not.

When Sans laughingly starts to tell you he doesn't _have_ a secret secret codeword, you begin to wish you'd brought that knife. And you're not even sorry.

He must see something of the direction of your thoughts on your face, because a second later he backtracks. He doesn't have a secret secret codeword, but he _does_ have a secret triple-secret one. Apparently.

_Asshole._

He gives you the key to his room and some food for thought – it's time for you to learn the truth, he says, and by that you can only imagine he means the truth about his timeline knowledge. You'll have to travel all the way back to Snowdin for it, but it'll probably be worth it. Maybe. Possibly.

You leave the hall with a distinct feeling of uneasiness.

* * *

 

You reach the skeleton brothers' home in record time. Undyne is brawling with Papyrus out front, and you remember suddenly that you've still got to get her letter for Alphys. Good thing Sans sent you back here, you think, or you'd have forgotten and wasted time fighting Flowey again.

That makes you feel a little better. You think...

Neither monster notices you enter the house, and you're upstairs in front of Sans' bedroom door before you've even mentally prepared yourself for it. Honestly, you're not sure you're ready. What secrets this room must hold – what _wonders_. This is Sans, after all. For all that he is undoubtedly an absolute asshole, he's still your favourite (for _some_ reason). There's more to him than meets the eye, and now you're about to find out what.

You take a deep breath. Unlock the door. And enter.

Despite the frankly worrying array of multi-coloured lights visible under the door from the outside, the inside of his room is pitch black. You walk with hands out in front, looking for something – anything – to hold on to. The room's a lot bigger than you'd have thought. Where's the light? _Is_ there one?

A glance over your shoulder reveals that the doorway has disappeared, somehow, and you feel a chilling moment of panic. How are you supposed to find your way out _now_? Was this his plan all along? Are you going to be trapped in here forever?

Despite your best efforts, you start to hyperventilate.

Suddenly, the light goes on. Papyrus is standing in the doorway, tilting his head in confusion, his question – which you actually didn't hear – dying on his lipless mouth.

“WHY WERE YOU USING THE TREADMILL IN THE DARK?” he asks with a frown. “IS SANS PRANKING YOU ACROSS TIME AND SPACE? I HATE IT WHEN HE DOES THAT!”

When Papyrus leaves again, you notice the note attached to the treadmill.

_the truth is that you got owned, nerd..._

Yep. Sans is one Grade A asshole.

For the tiniest second, you almost wish you'd had the balls to finish that genocide run.

* * *

 

On the cusp of the final battle once more, your eyes bore into Sans with as much accusation as you can muster. If he, or anyone else, notices this, they don't say anything. And that's fine. You'll have your say. You just need to be patient.

You listen as everyone does their bit. The kind words still warm you, the encouragements still fill you with DETERMINATION. You're ready.

Wait for it...

A thick, thorn-encrusted vine slashes through your friends like they're nothing but cardboard cut outs. Flowey finally shows his twisted little face, just as you knew he would. He's about to start monologuing, and you know you're never going to have another chance like this one so you stop him. Holding up one finger, you turn to your struggling friends. More specifically, you turn to Sans who – you note, now that you're watching for it – isn't nearly as panicked as he should be.

“Are you serious?” you demand, hands on your hips.

“uh...”

“You're not gonna give me a hand here? No blaster pin-wheels or bone hopscotch, no gravity pinball... nothing?” You know he won't. Whether because he's lazy, or just sticking to the script, or whatever, you're on your own. And that's fine.

You just want _him_ to know that _you_ know what his game is.

“S-sans?” Toriel asks, through what has to be _intense_ levels of pain.

“no idea what you're talkin' about, kid...” He doesn't even sound winded.

“You're an asshole, Sans” you tell him decisively, rolling up your sleeves and turning back to Flowey – who has graciously waited for you to get your head back in the game instead of attacking. “A loveable one... but still an asshole.”

True to form, he winks so only you can see it.

Asshole.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on a mixture of my own in-game observations, and a comic I remember reading somewhere online. It's been a long time since I've written any fanfiction... gotta say, I kinda enjoyed myself. :)


End file.
